My first encounter with Medea was in the early days of dating The Man. He invited me to a movie, Medea Goes to Jail. He mentioned that this was a continuation of the Medea movie, Diary of an Angry Black Woman. I was *so* excited….I just love documentaries… the grit, the true life stories and this one sounded right up my alley. I pictured Africa…Johannesburg…women marching for equal treatment... When the first preview came on, my excitement came to a screeeeeching halt. *Oh* Tyler Perry is not an artsy indy filmmaker. Um…yeah… The Man kept glancing at me nervously at every punch line wondering, “why isn’t she laughing??” I kept subtly glancing at him, “did he just laugh at that?” Time moved in slow motion - the complete opposite of warp speed - I tried to smile and look cute…feign interest…wishing this movie theater served something a little more potent than milk duds…..
That was my first encounter with Medea. Imagine my surprise this semester when our assignment was to read Medea by Euripides. Tyler Perry just went up a notch in my mind. Medea? There is another Medea? I was instantly intrigued.
It’s an age-old story, really. Girl leaves her homeland…her family…her friends…to marry her hero - the celebrated Jason (as in Jason and the Argonauts). She helps him create his fortune by assisting him in his quest for the golden fleece. She is smart, beautiful, loyal…..he becomes her life….she has his children and is a devoted wife. They are the ultimate Power Couple--the Ken and Barbie of Ancient Greece. With her brains and his ambition, they can go places. That is…..until he traded her in for a new model….young, cute…..and a princess to boot. I can picture their conversation in my mind…..Medea: “But I got you where you are today - it was with my help that you succeeded.” Jason: “I would have succeeded with or without you…you really didn’t do that much to help…it was by MY hard work that I got where I am today.” I see Medea standing there….hearing those words that tore her heart….pleading with her husband to stay…not to abandon their long marriage. My heart starts to pound…my blood is reaching its boiling point…. Jason: “and just think…..it will be much better for the kids…..they will have little brothers and sisters who will be heirs to the throne….think of them for once…think of the opportunities it will give our children.” annnnnnd the Waterford crashes into the living room wall. I wonder - is he related to my X?? Early ancestor, maybe?? Jason: “I am sending you away - but you’ll have a nice house.” CRASH! Jason: “Why can’t you just accept this? You are so difficult!” CRASH- CRASH-CRASH-CRASH!!! Sister, I am there!! I am there in spades!!
Medea is devastated, hurt, angry, and alone. She has lost her husband, her friends, her house, and her lifestyle. She is one angry woman. She plots…plans….and manipulates her circumstances in order to bring him pain. She becomes a woman obsessed with showing the world how much he hurt her---to show the world what a bad father he is--to show the world that she is right and he is wrong. He was unfaithful not her….why is she being punished? She wanted to work on the relationship--he didn’t….the world needs to know that Jason…the revered Jason is a fraud. Medea looks for the way to cause him the most pain - - and she finds it….through his children.
In Euripides’ story, Medea plots to kill her children. I would be hard-pressed to find any woman willing to stoop to that level to cause their X’s that much pain. However, quite often I see women (and men) attempting to kill the relationship between their children and the other parent. It’s so subtle….a comment here and there about how unreliable they are, about their financial support, about their new girlfriend. I see them scheduling play dates, family outings, or girl scout meetings on the other parent’s weekend. She ignores simple, reasonable requests. She brings them late or picks them up early…..and visitation becomes a hassle in the children’s mind. Mom is happy because she feels vindicated because the kids chose to stay with her during Dad’s time.
I understand…..I am there sometimes….pick me not him….pick me not him!! Sometimes I just want to push the X off his pedestal like a kid playing King of the Mountain. Just one push…one quick hard push…. Why should he get to be the good guy?? It’s not fair!! I work hard to be a mom. I make the difficult decisions. I sacrificed for my family…stayed home to be a mom instead of finishing my degree and starting a career. But here’s the thing - kids need their dads and their moms. My new mantra is, “they are an X for a reason.” What he does now isn’t part of my current equation - he is my X-husband…..but he is not my kids’ X-father. He may not keep his house the way I would keep my house (holy cow, it would involve a bulldozer), he may not keep the children accountable like I would (just call him Mr. Cha-ching) and he may not date women I think are appropriate (I would prefer they be actual grown-ups) :) but he is still their dad and I need to give their relationship the utmost respect.
Your kids may never see how he wronged you….how much he hurt you….how you are the superior parent. To be honest, although that is a gratifying thought, it’s not a healthy thought. Part of me wants my kids to see it, but part of me knows that if and when they do, they are going to experience my pain, feel my abandonment, and mourn the daddy they once knew who has now fallen off his pedestal. It’s not worth it. My vindication is not worth my child’s heart.
Just walk away knowing that he is an X for a reason…..and whistle a happy tune.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Rant, Rant, Rant, Rant
I saw something today on Twitter that just made my blood boil! I considered responding, but on social media I try not to be too controversial….to be Miss Congeniality….to go with the flow….free speech and all that jazz. Besides, how can I say what I want to say in 140 characters--be short, concise and to the point without sounding like….. well… witchy.
“…..because the suburbs around #Indy are devoid of culture, diversity, & local flavor; our suburbs represent what is wrong with the US.”
Wow! That is one of those comments typically prefaced in a conversation by, “no offense, but….” and you immediately know that it is offensive.
So as a resident of zip code 46033, otherwise known as Carmel, IN, I am what is wrong with this country?? Or maybe not me personally, but my neighborhood, or maybe my township or let’s just say Hamilton County as a whole!! Wow - that is a pretty bold statement!!
In my experience, one can find groups of people devoid of diversity, culture & flavor in most any zip code. Let’s use Broad Ripple for example (not that I have anything against The Ripple, but it’s a good example to see my point of view). Many people would say that Broad Ripple is a center for diversity and culture in the city - - that is, people under the age of 30. If I go to Broad Ripple on any given evening, I see mostly white faces. If I go to the restaurants in Broad Ripple, same thing. Now BR has amazing ethnic restaurants, stores with cute hippy flowers everywhere, the smell of sandalwood and incense and beers for a quarter…but all I see are young, white people (and a few of us oldies but goodies reliving our past on an occasional night out). I actually see more diverse faces here in Carmel at Target than I do there.
Regarding flavor - I guess that is how exactly you define flavor. Growing up in the south, food was meant to be savored and had multiple layers of flavor and texture. I grew up with New Orleans, Memphis, and Dallas cuisine with a dollop of Mississippi Delta cookin in the middle. It was interesting to me a while back to hear a lady remark that southern food had little flavor….that it all tasted the same….fried. Seriously?? She had been eating at southern chains like Dixie Café way too long!! Southern food is bursting with flavor….and if it's not, we have a bottle of Tabasco right on the table to take care of that. If you expect to find flavor, you will find flavor…..if, however, you are looking for one certain flavor, you may not find it….and be disappointed. You may drive through our neighborhoods and see homogenous homes, but that doesn’t mean that the people inside them are homogenous….or devoid of flavor, culture and interest.
As to culture - culture is of the eye of the beholder. Why is “culture” defined as the dreadlocks, tattooed set ready to protest rally at a moment’s notice? Why is culture defined in one's zipcode - I live on Mass Ave, therefore, I must be cultured. Can I wear a business suit and still be seen as cultured?? What if it was hiding my tattoos?? What if I cut my hair super short, dyed it blonde and wore men's trousers? Would I be cultured then?? I am basically the same person with different window dressing.... What if I gave a million dollars to the arts last year and resided in Carmel?? Would I be cultured then?? What if I looked like your average, every-day American woman but who happens to love art, theater, dogs, books, and is learning French and Serbian to complement her basic rudimentary Italian so she can continue to travel the world with her backpack - Am I cultured?? What do I have to do to get into the cultured club (not to be confused with Culture Club and Boy George....and by the way....would HE be considered cultured??) But I digress....
Is culture simply a prevalence of theaters? What if I don't even go to the theater....can I still be cultured? Is culture defined by an abundance of people from other countries?
In Hamilton County, there is actually a large number of foreign residents - - just take a look at the soccer fields at Off the Wall Soccer and listen to how many different languages you hear. I have friends in Hamilton County who are Indian, Serbian, Russian, French, Greek, Irish, Spanish, Latino, Lebanese, Swiss, African-American, Turkish, Jewish, Gay, Workaholics, Housewives, Artists, Out of Work, Tree Huggers, Religious Far Right, Hippies, and just plain old whitebread Americans.
But my point does not lie in numbers. I am sure that within the loop, the actual numbers are higher. My point and my issue lie in the perception that the suburbs are what is wrong with the US. While I respect greatly the freedom this person has to say those things, I wonder if she would respect my freedom equally. I have overheard people speaking about the stupidity and selfishness of conservatives - somehow conservative ideals are much inferior, however, if a conservative were to espout these same comments, they would be seen as [gasp] intolerant and subsequently disqualified from the human race.
What is wrong with this country is that we don’t give a damn! That’s right - no matter what your zipcode is, what your color, background, gender, sexual orientation, whatever….we are so busy with our lives that we can’t stop for a moment and give to someone else. We will spend beaucoup dollars helping rescue dogs (albiet a great cause) but we will not help a starving homeless person or help an at-risk child with their homework. We see the suffering in countries such as Sudan, India, and Rwanda and turn a blind eye…not even allowing our hearts to warm up for a moment. Our hearts are cold and we get enjoyment out of attacking each other instead of working together to help others. That is what is wrong with this country.
Sister Twitter user - I know men and women in the Suburbs who spend their extra time and their extra money (1) mentoring at risk girls, (2) helping under-served women in prisons and elsewhere (3) helping displaced women prepare for job interviews and telling them they are beautiful (4) building schools in distressed countries (5) tutoring children in homeless shelters and on…and on…and on…and on…. Don’t tell me that we, as residents of the suburbs, are the problem. The suburbs are not the problem. Thought Nazis come in all shapes, colors and creeds - - if the only opinion you EVER find valid is your own, then you are closed-minded. I don’t care if everyone around you agrees with you…if the media agrees with you…if your mentors agree with you…..if you refuse to listen or RESPECT the views of other people…..if you refuse to RESPECT people with a different ideology than you….if you refuse to RESPECT people who live in a different zip code simply because of your PERCEPTION of them, then maybe….just maybe…you are the problem, too.
(picture me handing you a glass of a fabulous red wine as a truce offering)….
“…..because the suburbs around #Indy are devoid of culture, diversity, & local flavor; our suburbs represent what is wrong with the US.”
Wow! That is one of those comments typically prefaced in a conversation by, “no offense, but….” and you immediately know that it is offensive.
So as a resident of zip code 46033, otherwise known as Carmel, IN, I am what is wrong with this country?? Or maybe not me personally, but my neighborhood, or maybe my township or let’s just say Hamilton County as a whole!! Wow - that is a pretty bold statement!!
In my experience, one can find groups of people devoid of diversity, culture & flavor in most any zip code. Let’s use Broad Ripple for example (not that I have anything against The Ripple, but it’s a good example to see my point of view). Many people would say that Broad Ripple is a center for diversity and culture in the city - - that is, people under the age of 30. If I go to Broad Ripple on any given evening, I see mostly white faces. If I go to the restaurants in Broad Ripple, same thing. Now BR has amazing ethnic restaurants, stores with cute hippy flowers everywhere, the smell of sandalwood and incense and beers for a quarter…but all I see are young, white people (and a few of us oldies but goodies reliving our past on an occasional night out). I actually see more diverse faces here in Carmel at Target than I do there.
Regarding flavor - I guess that is how exactly you define flavor. Growing up in the south, food was meant to be savored and had multiple layers of flavor and texture. I grew up with New Orleans, Memphis, and Dallas cuisine with a dollop of Mississippi Delta cookin in the middle. It was interesting to me a while back to hear a lady remark that southern food had little flavor….that it all tasted the same….fried. Seriously?? She had been eating at southern chains like Dixie Café way too long!! Southern food is bursting with flavor….and if it's not, we have a bottle of Tabasco right on the table to take care of that. If you expect to find flavor, you will find flavor…..if, however, you are looking for one certain flavor, you may not find it….and be disappointed. You may drive through our neighborhoods and see homogenous homes, but that doesn’t mean that the people inside them are homogenous….or devoid of flavor, culture and interest.
As to culture - culture is of the eye of the beholder. Why is “culture” defined as the dreadlocks, tattooed set ready to protest rally at a moment’s notice? Why is culture defined in one's zipcode - I live on Mass Ave, therefore, I must be cultured. Can I wear a business suit and still be seen as cultured?? What if it was hiding my tattoos?? What if I cut my hair super short, dyed it blonde and wore men's trousers? Would I be cultured then?? I am basically the same person with different window dressing.... What if I gave a million dollars to the arts last year and resided in Carmel?? Would I be cultured then?? What if I looked like your average, every-day American woman but who happens to love art, theater, dogs, books, and is learning French and Serbian to complement her basic rudimentary Italian so she can continue to travel the world with her backpack - Am I cultured?? What do I have to do to get into the cultured club (not to be confused with Culture Club and Boy George....and by the way....would HE be considered cultured??) But I digress....
Is culture simply a prevalence of theaters? What if I don't even go to the theater....can I still be cultured? Is culture defined by an abundance of people from other countries?
In Hamilton County, there is actually a large number of foreign residents - - just take a look at the soccer fields at Off the Wall Soccer and listen to how many different languages you hear. I have friends in Hamilton County who are Indian, Serbian, Russian, French, Greek, Irish, Spanish, Latino, Lebanese, Swiss, African-American, Turkish, Jewish, Gay, Workaholics, Housewives, Artists, Out of Work, Tree Huggers, Religious Far Right, Hippies, and just plain old whitebread Americans.
But my point does not lie in numbers. I am sure that within the loop, the actual numbers are higher. My point and my issue lie in the perception that the suburbs are what is wrong with the US. While I respect greatly the freedom this person has to say those things, I wonder if she would respect my freedom equally. I have overheard people speaking about the stupidity and selfishness of conservatives - somehow conservative ideals are much inferior, however, if a conservative were to espout these same comments, they would be seen as [gasp] intolerant and subsequently disqualified from the human race.
What is wrong with this country is that we don’t give a damn! That’s right - no matter what your zipcode is, what your color, background, gender, sexual orientation, whatever….we are so busy with our lives that we can’t stop for a moment and give to someone else. We will spend beaucoup dollars helping rescue dogs (albiet a great cause) but we will not help a starving homeless person or help an at-risk child with their homework. We see the suffering in countries such as Sudan, India, and Rwanda and turn a blind eye…not even allowing our hearts to warm up for a moment. Our hearts are cold and we get enjoyment out of attacking each other instead of working together to help others. That is what is wrong with this country.
Sister Twitter user - I know men and women in the Suburbs who spend their extra time and their extra money (1) mentoring at risk girls, (2) helping under-served women in prisons and elsewhere (3) helping displaced women prepare for job interviews and telling them they are beautiful (4) building schools in distressed countries (5) tutoring children in homeless shelters and on…and on…and on…and on…. Don’t tell me that we, as residents of the suburbs, are the problem. The suburbs are not the problem. Thought Nazis come in all shapes, colors and creeds - - if the only opinion you EVER find valid is your own, then you are closed-minded. I don’t care if everyone around you agrees with you…if the media agrees with you…if your mentors agree with you…..if you refuse to listen or RESPECT the views of other people…..if you refuse to RESPECT people with a different ideology than you….if you refuse to RESPECT people who live in a different zip code simply because of your PERCEPTION of them, then maybe….just maybe…you are the problem, too.
(picture me handing you a glass of a fabulous red wine as a truce offering)….
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Script
I was watching Must Love Dogs 
the other day with John Cusack and Diane Lane and the male lead character (boat making-man) makes a comment that women write a script for men to follow and if somehow they go off script, they are “out”….gone….kaput. Now, I have seen this movie several times and every time I hear that line, I am like……”whatever..”…..that is….until this last time. Listening to those words brought back a memory of a recent discussion the Man and I had.
The Man had offered to help me with a few yard projects over Labor Day weekend (I know----he’s amazing!!!) but, quite honestly, I was a bit skeptical of whether or not he would actually follow through. Now….I do want to give a disclaimer….The Man has always come through for me (unless catastrophe strikes) and any part of me that has skepticism comes from my feeling of being last on the list in my marriage. It’s a knee-jerk reaction for me at times, but I am working on it.
I had to work that Saturday morning and we had plans for the evening, hence time was short for such a large project. The Man offered to come over in my absence and create the flower bed taking out all of the grass around my newly planted hostas, lilies, etc. Yay!! I was so excited!
Well….excited for a little bit. I wanted to remind him……OMG I was like a crack addict I wanted to remind him SO bad! I just knew he would forget….was banking on it!! My heart started beating a bit faster….I checked my phone….no word from him that he was at my house. I know he is going to forget….get busy…hang out…whatever and decide to do the project another day. I literally started getting upset, “he knows this is important to me…I knew he would forget.” So I waited…..and waited...and my recalcitrance to nag became an attitude of, “if I am important, he will remember.” My worries and more importantly, my expectations of him not coming through sent my heart rate through-the-roof!!
I get in the car, hands shaking, writing the “speech” I am going to give him when I get home and he is not there. I am going to call him on his cell--all aloof like I don't care about the stupid flower bed.... I wrote the entire speech…..and then wrote his response to my speech and my response to his response. By the time I got home, I was totally ticked! Why?? Because I wrote the script - cast the characters, plot, motives…the whole nine yards. I walked through my door ready for battle and saw my sweaty man…drinking a glass of iced tea and I would like to say that I melted. But quite honestly, it took me a few seconds to gather up my emotions inside myself. He looked at me, smiled and said, “you thought I would forget.” I said, “yes, I did.” The Man replied, “I will always come through for you, baby.” And it was then that I melted.
Moral of the story: Throw away the script! Shred it!! Burn it!! We seem to think that if we control the plot or at least know what is going to happen that we buffer ourselves from disappointment. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Remember the last time you wrote your script? Remember?? When your self-fulfilling prophecy came to pass, you (that is…..if you are like me) probably said to yourself, “I KNEW IT!” By setting your expectation of disappointment early, the fire of your discontent is at full swing by the time the act actually happens. You have fanned the flames of anger preemptively. By scripting it all out, it makes it easier to check out because you are disappointed, to withdraw emotionally….to create a situation where the punishment doesn’t jive with the offense….a situation where the other person comes into play after you have been stewing on it for hours, days, weeks….and they ask what the big deal is (not knowing that you have been ticked off preemptively for hours now). Baby, that script ain’t no good--ain’t no good at all!!
If you must write a script, create the expectation of love and respect...of kindness and compassion. Treat them as the people you hope they will be - expecting good things. Buck Brannaman once said at a horse clinic, "treat your children as if they are already who you want them to be. Treat them like they are intelligent, respectful, responsible and they will become intelligent, respectful, and responsible. If you treat them like that are irresponsible, dis-respectful and stupid, that is what they will become." The word become is crucial. We are all on a journey...on our way to becoming our best selves. Remember that the next time you get out your pen and start writing that script. Just wait and see what happens and go from there.
the other day with John Cusack and Diane Lane and the male lead character (boat making-man) makes a comment that women write a script for men to follow and if somehow they go off script, they are “out”….gone….kaput. Now, I have seen this movie several times and every time I hear that line, I am like……”whatever..”…..that is….until this last time. Listening to those words brought back a memory of a recent discussion the Man and I had.The Man had offered to help me with a few yard projects over Labor Day weekend (I know----he’s amazing!!!) but, quite honestly, I was a bit skeptical of whether or not he would actually follow through. Now….I do want to give a disclaimer….The Man has always come through for me (unless catastrophe strikes) and any part of me that has skepticism comes from my feeling of being last on the list in my marriage. It’s a knee-jerk reaction for me at times, but I am working on it.
I had to work that Saturday morning and we had plans for the evening, hence time was short for such a large project. The Man offered to come over in my absence and create the flower bed taking out all of the grass around my newly planted hostas, lilies, etc. Yay!! I was so excited!
Well….excited for a little bit. I wanted to remind him……OMG I was like a crack addict I wanted to remind him SO bad! I just knew he would forget….was banking on it!! My heart started beating a bit faster….I checked my phone….no word from him that he was at my house. I know he is going to forget….get busy…hang out…whatever and decide to do the project another day. I literally started getting upset, “he knows this is important to me…I knew he would forget.” So I waited…..and waited...and my recalcitrance to nag became an attitude of, “if I am important, he will remember.” My worries and more importantly, my expectations of him not coming through sent my heart rate through-the-roof!!
I get in the car, hands shaking, writing the “speech” I am going to give him when I get home and he is not there. I am going to call him on his cell--all aloof like I don't care about the stupid flower bed.... I wrote the entire speech…..and then wrote his response to my speech and my response to his response. By the time I got home, I was totally ticked! Why?? Because I wrote the script - cast the characters, plot, motives…the whole nine yards. I walked through my door ready for battle and saw my sweaty man…drinking a glass of iced tea and I would like to say that I melted. But quite honestly, it took me a few seconds to gather up my emotions inside myself. He looked at me, smiled and said, “you thought I would forget.” I said, “yes, I did.” The Man replied, “I will always come through for you, baby.” And it was then that I melted.
Moral of the story: Throw away the script! Shred it!! Burn it!! We seem to think that if we control the plot or at least know what is going to happen that we buffer ourselves from disappointment. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Remember the last time you wrote your script? Remember?? When your self-fulfilling prophecy came to pass, you (that is…..if you are like me) probably said to yourself, “I KNEW IT!” By setting your expectation of disappointment early, the fire of your discontent is at full swing by the time the act actually happens. You have fanned the flames of anger preemptively. By scripting it all out, it makes it easier to check out because you are disappointed, to withdraw emotionally….to create a situation where the punishment doesn’t jive with the offense….a situation where the other person comes into play after you have been stewing on it for hours, days, weeks….and they ask what the big deal is (not knowing that you have been ticked off preemptively for hours now). Baby, that script ain’t no good--ain’t no good at all!!
If you must write a script, create the expectation of love and respect...of kindness and compassion. Treat them as the people you hope they will be - expecting good things. Buck Brannaman once said at a horse clinic, "treat your children as if they are already who you want them to be. Treat them like they are intelligent, respectful, responsible and they will become intelligent, respectful, and responsible. If you treat them like that are irresponsible, dis-respectful and stupid, that is what they will become." The word become is crucial. We are all on a journey...on our way to becoming our best selves. Remember that the next time you get out your pen and start writing that script. Just wait and see what happens and go from there.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Temptations....No Bake Cookies
Boiled Cookies
3 Cups of sugar
4 Tbl cocoa (I use Hersheys or Hersheys dark, although I use other higher quality cocoas for other things, the Hersheys work best for this recipe)
3/4 Cup whole milk
1 Stick of butter
Dash of Salt
Mix ingredients into a saucepan over medium heat, stirring often. Put out sheets of waxed paper (or aluminum foil) on your counter top/table top. Bring mixture to a good rolling boil (more than a few boil bubbles, a nice hearty boil) and boil for 3 minutes. (This is actually one of the few times I use a timer.....if they are undercooked, they won't harden.....overcooked and they are dry). Remove from heat and add:
1/2 Cup peanut butter
2 Cups oats
1 Tsp vanilla
Stir briskly and quickly drip spoonfulls on your waxed paper. Let sit until hardened.
This recipe is so easy! Let me know how you like it!
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